


boy, i'll die to care for you

by serendipitee



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Breathplay, Choking, Daddy Kink, Degrading Language, Dirty Talk, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Scenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 12:31:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15886116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipitee/pseuds/serendipitee
Summary: It only takes a couple seconds of Jackson’s frustrated, aborted jerking of his hips for him to huff. “Please, Mark, you know I need—”“I know, love.” He tickles fingers up Jackson's inner thigh, smiling at the breathless laugh it draws out of him. “But you like this part.”





	boy, i'll die to care for you

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [bloom](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14101143) by [subsequence](https://archiveofourown.org/users/subsequence/pseuds/subsequence). 



> happy birthday mark!! if you're reading this, turn around and don't read this lmfao  
> if you haven't read bloom yet you should but there's only one specific reference to it that won't make much sense if you haven't read it.  
>  **cw:** 'slut' and 'whore' used in a derogatory sense  
>  title from (a lil on the nose) [animal by troye sivan](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ZdV0C_h9cM)

Mark loves Jackson. There’s power in the simplicity, because it covers all of the different facets of it. He loves Jackson like he’s never loved anything else. Mark loves Jackson at every moment, with every fiber of himself, and still nothing is ever quite the same as this.

He’s dazed, dark hair sticking to his sweaty forehead, eyelids sliding open and shut slowly, like when he’s falling asleep listening to poetry Mark reads him from faraway lands. The arch of his neck, bare save for a single silver chain with their names hanging delicately entwined at the end, is captivating. As is the way he’s pouring off pheromones—stepping into their room at this time of Jackson’s cycle means walking directly into a wall of heady cocoa and cinnamon—and rubbing his wet ass into the filthy top sheet, and the way his fists are clenched into the silk, squeezing, refusing to touch the angry red skin of his cock against his belly.

He’s so busy with it that he doesn’t even notice Mark coming in at first, eyes sliding shut as he whines. The prince watches his husband roll and circle his hips and admires the tight line of his jaw with his heart pounding in his ears as he tries to escape his buttery leather riding boots. Somehow, this never loses the startling clarity of the first heat they spent together. Somehow, Mark finds, each of the countless cycles they’ve gone through as mates just helps them fall deeper in love.

Jackson’s huge eyes slide open in a millisecond, though, like he can hear Mark’s racing pulse from across the room. “ _Baby_ ,” he cries out, vocal chords frayed, verging on a sob. “Mark….”

Mark’s hackles rise as he strips off his shoes, frustrated with the laces of his gloves and clasp of his cloak, dropping everything along the way to their bed. The anxiety of leaving Jackson alone during a heat never really changes, either. “I’m here, Jack. I’m sorry, I’m here.”

Jackson has had heats long enough to know that it’s all biological processes, that every part of it is just his body and his hormones going “kooky” (his word) and that none of it, outside of a fever left too long, would actually be able to hurt him. But it doesn’t stop him from getting that harried, overwhelmed look in his eye when Mark is forced to leave him for whatever inconvenient royal duties he has to attend. It doesn’t stop either of them from worrying. There’s very few things that can help them with that.

When Mark approaches, the sharp, upset edge of Jackson’s gaze clears ever so slightly. They’re together, and unlike the confusion of their youth, now being together always means that they’re going to take care of one another. “Oh, baby, I’m here.” He climbs into bed, holds Jackson’s beloved face in his hands before stroking down his neck. “I’ve got you.”

He presses his thumb against their bond bite and Jackson shudders, eyelids fluttering, and comes.

Mark holds Jackson close when he sags into him, ignoring the sticky amalgam of sweat and come drying on his skin, just breathing against him, covering his omega’s mark with his whole hand now. 

“It’s grounding, when you touch it, you know,” Jackson had explained once a number of summers ago as they sat among the rosebushes, absently playing with Mark’s hair where he rested in his lap. He broke off a low hanging blossom and tucked it behind Mark’s ear. “I mean, it doesn’t stop me from wanting to ride you like a purebred racehorse, but it does make me feel more in control of it.” Mark, characteristically serious about it, had vowed to do it whenever his mate felt even a little bit overwhelmed, if that’s what Jackson wanted. The rose rubbed its sweetness into Mark’s hair and Jackson smiled down at him.

Jackson always needs the help when he’s been left alone longer than expected, because he’s a worrywart without the heat and in the midst of it his anxiety is practically catastrophic. But he knows that Jackson doesn’t mind being a _little bit_ overwhelmed nowadays. That’s why he isn’t confused by the combination of wet eyelashes and a shit-eating grin being pressed against his shoulder simultaneously. Now that Mark’s here, now that he and Jackson can breathe properly again—this is where the fun starts. “Missed you.”

“I can tell,” Mark hums, digging his fingertips into the tension in Jackson’s shoulders. He’s always run a little bit warmer than Mark, but right now the fever is just radiating off of him, burning. The knots close to his omega’s neck come loose under his hand, and Jackson sighs in relief. “Have you gotten any rest?”

“Why were you gone so long?” Jackson says, ignoring the question. 

That’s a no. Mark chuckles but lets Jackson snuffle and pout into his neck. “Do you actually care?”

Jackson emerges from his hiding spot. His pupils are two yawning, gaping black holes of need. “No.”

Mark laughs again, but it comes out rough. “I thought so.” He strokes fingers down Jackson’s soft cheek, rubs knuckles under his chin gently before cupping his hand under Jackson’s jaw and squeezing the bone. Hard. “Lay down.”

Jackson does as he’s told. The little tip backward lets him spread out, stretching his arms and legs against the soiled sheets, back cracking when he arches, happy little sounds rolling out of him now that his body will relax enough to be comfortable. He’s gorgeous in the lamplight, chest open, strength in every visible inch of muscle and tendon, delicate in the soft skin of his joints and his mouth. All for Mark.

He starts where Jackson ended. Mark leans over Jackson’s stomach, his hard cock, and licks a wide stripe across his abdomen through the drying come. “ _Oh…_ ” Jackson sighs, startled into another gasp by Mark pressing fingers against the plug in his hole. “Oh, f—!”

“Poor baby,” Mark murmurs against his belly, lips brushing Jackson’s skin. “I’m sorry I left you alone so long. I know this thing was no substitute for my cock.”

Jackson agrees through his haze, slurs something about his knot and his scent and his dirty mouth and tries to fist a hand his hair, but that’s not how Mark wants this to go. He grips Jackson’s wrist mid-reach and squeezes, flattening his mate’s arm to the bed. “I’ll tell you when you can touch.”

His omega heaves a breath under him, nods frantically and says “okay” when Mark looks up to check in on him. He keeps licking at Jackson’s come until he is squirming, stomach tensing, wordlessly asking for more. Mark smiles, mouth pressed against his pubic bone, and waits.

It only takes a couple seconds of Jackson’s frustrated, aborted jerking of his hips for him to huff. “Please, Mark, you know I need—”

“I know, love.” He tickles fingers up Jackson's inner thigh, smiling at the breathless laugh it draws out of him. “But you like this part.”

Jackson hums, agreeing, and releases the tension in his hips. He lets himself be led and he trusts Mark to lead. It's heady to know that, every time. Jackson is strong, broad-shouldered and masculine and he bares and entrusts every inch of his body to Mark as Mark does to him.

Mark dips his thumb down Jackson's perineum, dragging the blunt edge of his nail along the sensitive skin. The hair on Jackson's legs all raises on end, and Mark watches goosebumps racing down his skin. The bond goes taut and tense between them, pulling tight as the pads of Mark's fingers slide through the wetness around his hole. He rubs the slick obsidian at the base of the plug, moving it back and forth only enough to make Jackson twitch and gasp; he plays with it, licks around it, rolling the sultry sweet taste of Jackson's wetness over his tongue. He wonders absently how much of it is his own come—the come he’d filled Jackson’s ass with earlier, the come that Jackson had begged and pleaded for, the come that Mark had paired with a promise of more to follow.

“Please.” Jackson is gulping down deep, shuddering lungfuls of air when Mark looks up at him again, and his eyes are saucer-round and needy. He turns his wrist in Mark's grip to hold his hand and squeeze, gently. “Daddy, please.”

A tingle shoots down Mark's spine and straight to his cock. He gulps, mouth suddenly dry, and then lets go of Jackson's wrist to touch himself. He teases the head, works his sticky precome down, grits his teeth when a sigh rattles through him. When he catches his husband's glance, he looks hungry, and his jaw is slack, mouth hanging open. Mark wants to put something in it.

As if sensing his thoughts, Jackson darts his pink tongue across his swollen bottom lip. He looks so unbelievably sexy like this, laid out for Mark, and he knows exactly how to toe across every line Mark has drawn between them, chasing the thrill. Even through the fog of the heat, he knows Mark is getting entranced by the earthy mix of their scents; he knows he can get away with spreading his legs and canting his ass down into the bed, against Mark’s fingers that weakly tug and push at the plug.

He also looks like he’ll eat Mark alive if he doesn’t do something soon, a wild, frantic edge to his movements, a heavy whine in the back of his throat. Mark can feel his ears buzzing even before Jackson says what he does. “Fuck me, daddy,” he says, voice shaky and deep, ghosting a hand down his own cock.

Mark's resolve to tease shatters into a million pieces. He smacks Jackson’s hand away from his dick and lays down flat right on top of him, fingers going around his throat. “What did I say?”

Jackson is so, so warm underneath him and his big brown eyes are magnetic in their cloudiness. Mark knows that even in this position Jackson understands how much power he holds. He looks only a little bit repentant, but the yearning there grows when Mark presses against his veins. “You said you would tell me when to touch.”

Mark squeezes his hand, slowly. “Did you listen?”

“No, I’m sorry,” Jackson gasps, lips ruby red, pulse thumping hard against Mark’s thumb, eyelids sliding slowly down. “I’ll be good, I promise, just, please...”

“I know, I know,” Mark clucks, nosing down Jackson’s neck, releasing his hand, letting his scent infiltrate the carefully composed self-restraint, feeling _JacksonJacksonJacksonJackson_ fill the forefront of his mind. He won’t be able to hold off much longer. “Daddy’s gonna take care of you.”

He leans back on his knees to wiggle the plug in Jackson’s ass back and forth, just to convince the muscles to loosen enough to let it out. It takes a second after having been inside him for hours, but the tapered toy slides out with a squelch and Mark immediately slides in three of his fingers. His thick silver rings catch on Jackson’s rim when he digs into the tight wet heat to nudge Jackson’s prostate. 

After a few strokes and the texture of the rings rubbing at him, Jackson chokes on a breath and screws his eyes shut, and Mark retreats to stretch him instead. That’s a surefire sign that Jackson’s about to come and Mark can sense his mate’s exhaustion creeping in slowly but surely. If Mark just lets him come and doze off before getting what they both need, Jackson will wake up in a whirl in too few hours more desperate than he is now. That just won’t do.

Mark takes his cock in hand, heart in his throat. “Ready?” Mark breathes. Jackson shudders and nods. When Mark nudges just the head in, they gasp in tandem, Jackson gripping the sheets and Mark squeezing hard on his hips. He moves just a little, adjusting Jackson’s legs so he’s spread-eagled and Mark can slide down deep at an angle that makes both of their heads spin. 

Being able to fuck Jackson is always a pleasure and Mark hopes he never, ever takes it for granted. He keeps making these little noises, half-formed _ohohoh_ s, and his long, pretty eyelashes sweep and flutter like a courtesan’s fan. His body is so welcoming and warm and wet. He looks indescribably beautiful. 

Mark wants to ruin him.

“Fuck, _gaga_ , you get so wet for your alpha, don’t you?” Mark fucks into him slowly, savoring the way Jackson’s absolutely dripping on him, a combination of slick and the come he had left in him earlier sluicing down their thighs, soaking into the sheets. It’s obscene. It’s burning Mark from the inside out. “Spent all that time I was gone just thinking about this, right? About when I would get back and fill you up with my come again?”

Jackson mewls wordlessly, the thick muscles in his thighs twitching under Mark’s hands. When he digs his fingers in, he does it hard, the way Jackson likes, short fingernails leaving fierce red welts, pressing his knees to the bed on either side of him. “I asked you a question,” Mark says, edging on a growl. 

“ _Ah._ Yes, daddy, I did, I thought about it the whole time.”

“Mmm. You love this so much. You love having the excuse to be slutty.” Jackson’s slippery, hot hole tightens around him, and Mark curses in return.

Jackson points out, a little coy, cheeky: “I don’t need an excuse to be slutty.” 

Mark thrusts hard into him, the combination of their scents overpowering his thinking as he snarls. It’s clearly a joke, but in this state it addles Mark’s brain and twists an ugly, old feeling in his gut. “Of course not. I remember how you used to spread your legs for everyone.”

Jackson’s breath hitches, cheeks bursting into splotchy red, but Mark keeps going. “I remember when you were like a cheap whore, baby; you used to let everyone use you up and toss you away.” He presses his hips harder into Jackson’s, ignoring the initial whine of discomfort from his mate as his spine arches, fucking him ruthlessly into the mattress. The sound of their skin slapping echoes around the chamber and back to Mark’s eardrum, banging, urging him on. 

“Used to strut around _right in front of me_ and play with all those dumb little boys and girls.” And my fucking _brother_ , he doesn't say, but it propels him forward, leaning into Jackson's chest and biting down hard on the supple skin around his nipple. He scrapes his teeth across the bud and runs the sharp edge of his canine against it, relishing the shout it punches out of his mate. “Now you don’t want anything but this knot. Now—”

“I'm all yours,” Jackson whimpers. He looks wrecked: skin flushed blotchy, mouth bitten and swollen, eyes filled with unshed tears. Mark moves up to his throat, the soft skin on Jackson’s unmarked side, and digs his teeth in, sucks a hard bruise. He wants to leave another permanent indent, wants to make sure everyone knows how deeply they belong to one another, wants to make Jackson smell so irrefutably like him that no alpha would dare to sniff in his direction ever again. “I'm all yours, fuck, Mark, now and forever, I’m yours, I'm yours.”

“ _Mine_ ,” Mark growls from a distant depth within, the innate alpha instinct preening and pleased with his omega’s easy, desperate acceptance of his ownership. His jaw relaxes and he lets go of Jackson’s neck, laving his tongue over the mottled red but unbroken skin. The punishing pounding of his thin hips against Jackson changes too. Deeper. Slower.

Under him, Jackson moans melodically. “Yours,” he breathes out, eyes enchanted and glossy. He reaches up slow enough for Mark to stop him or scold him, but he doesn’t. Instead, he lets Jackson card a callused hand through his hair, push it off his forehead with infinite gentleness. “And mine.”

“Always.” Mark’s spoiled heart tries to leap out of his chest into Jackson’s waiting hands, as it has every day since they met. It’s belonged to him as long as he can remember. “Always yours.” He hitches one of Jackson’s knees up and around his waist and props the other leg over his shoulder, laying a kiss against his calf when he pushes in and Jackson’s eyes roll back at the angle.

There’s a sheen of sweat across Jackson’s chest and forehead, and his breathing is going shallow and ragged. He’s hitting his prostate on every pass, judging on the shocked, electric twitches coursing through Jackson. Mark asks, “do you think you can go for two?” And while the idea makes him whine, he shakes his head sluggishly. Just one, then.

Mark wraps his hand around Jackson’s thick cock, working him roughly in time with his thrusts, gasping on his own from the way Jackson’s ass shivers and throbs around him. God, he’s so tight and hot and perfect it makes Mark lightheaded. “You’ve been so good for me, baby. Do you want to come for daddy?”

Jackson nods, the corners of his eyes wet. “I wanna….” he pants, putting his hand on Mark’s wrist, stalling.

“What do you need, my love?” 

“I want to come with you,” he says, breathy and weak. 

Mark knows he won’t hold up like this, cock filling up and swelling at the base already, so he pulls out. Jackson reacts like he’s been punched in the gut, crying out a wounded yell before Mark turns him over onto his side and spoons up against his broad back, enveloping him in his arms. “I’ve got you, I’m here, I’m here,” he murmurs into the skin of his shoulder, holding him as he trembles, sliding back inside with as minimal jostling as he can.

“God,” Jackson says, voice thick in his throat. He always gets soft right before being knotted. “Fuck, Mark, I love you.”

“I love you.” Mark echoes. He presses his forehead against Jackson’s nape, inhaling his scent and fighting to keep a hold on the burning, bubbling need low in his belly. “Touch yourself.”

Jackson jerks himself off hard and fast with minimal technique, palm sliding in his precome. Mark presses his hand to Jackson’s belly and thrusts slow, knot swelling and catching on his rim, working both of them up, pulse jumping under every inch of Mark's skin. “Mark, I — _ah_ , can you—” It takes him a second to find the words that he wants, hand and mind and breathing erratic. “Choke me, daddy.” 

Mark swallows hard and wills the shake out of his hand and his voice. “Okay, baby.” He closes his fingers around Jackson’s throat again, feels a rush of ownership and codependence, feels his partner’s heart racing, breath light, feels one last gush of slick run between them and Jackson tightening around him with a sob, before gasping “Jackson,” and coming, panting hard against the short hairs on the back of his neck. His cock thickens and swells and stays, and a wave of relief washes over both of them.

They breathe in sync for a moment, tied together, winded, before Jackson reaches for Mark’s hand and brings it to his lips, laying soft kisses along his skin. “Missed you,” he sighs again, but this time it’s free of upset and full of quiet joy. Jackson moves out of the wet spot he created on the sheets, snuggling further back into Mark’s embrace.

He sounds half asleep, and it makes Mark warm from the inside out knowing he could help him rest. “I missed you too.”

The next part is mumbled, Jackson’s face turned into the covers as he dozes off. “Glad you and your dick came back intact.”

Mark laughs and holds his love tight, keeping him safe and warm. “Me, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to [mia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/subsequence/pseuds/subsequence) for writing a fic that is so so incredibly good it made me really want to read AND write a/b/o for the first time in my life. u da best ♥♥♥


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